


BanG D&Dream!

by Soran_Chan



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, F/F, also it's Pathfinder, and YOU ARE GONNA LIKE IT, but for some reason that's not an automated tag, but like, it's gonna be cliche, it's gonna be shounen as all heck, now imagine that, real, this is gonna be edgy, you know NFO?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soran_Chan/pseuds/Soran_Chan
Summary: Saaya had long since been disillusioned with ideas of grandeur and heroism--most people had, after the undead scourge of three years ago. Instead, she had chosen to devote her life to her faith and live the ordinary, peaceful life of a common church girl.When that livelihood is threatened, though, and her latent powers awaken, she is forced to make a choice: to shun the very goddess that has given her this peaceful life, or to take up arms as her holy knight. Following the lead of her snarky, easily embarrassed goddess, Saaya finds herself surrounded by an odd ensemble of characters: a worthless, deadbeat monk, a shy, singsong wizard, and a quirky, socially inept ranger. With these companions by her side, they'll brave the likes of a godslayer, a vampiric lord, an enslaved angel, a monster tamer, and...the world's best baseball player...?Well...right after they scrounge up enough money to afford breakfast first, that is.





	BanG D&Dream!

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes: This story is violent! People fight with swords! With hammers! With arcane laser beams! So please know beforehand that things might get a little gory. (It won't be any worse than your typical shounen battle manga, probably.)
> 
> This is a high fantasy AU that follows the rules and mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons: 5th Edition and Pathfinder Roleplaying Game. I have made character sheets, am rolling dice, and am interpreting the results in the same way I would as a GM (gamemaster). That said, none of that will ever explicitly show up in the story; you can just think of this as a normal high fantasy AU, and your experience will probably not change! (If you ARE curious about the rolls and character sheets, check the end notes!)
> 
> Enjoy~! ^w^)/)

As the bell’s first toll burrows its way into the weathered stone of Itou, a young woman walks alone up the starlit hill. Her shadow grows and shrinks in an attempt to keep up with her, her every skipping step across the scratched cobblestone echoing loudly in the night. She doesn’t notice this, absorbed as she is by the lull of the bell; she counts down the seconds, humming to herself.

_Five…four…three…two…one…!_

A second resounding _bong!_ follows the first, once again washing over the entire stretch of the town. To the girl, it’s as though the dulcet tones are calling to her, beckoning to her, and she is more than happy to comply. She crosses past the splintered wood bench engraved with faded names, the rickety, frayed tree-tied swing, and feels another flush of warmth as the third toll rings.

By the fourth toll, she reaches the top of the hill. Here, her skips turn to steps, then still entirely. She breathes in deeply, the flowerbeds and herbal gardens on either side of the neat brick path before her coloring the air with touches of sweetness and mint. It’s a soothing scent, and one she makes sure to take in nightly.

As the fifth and final toll sounds, she starts down the length of the path and smiles. Further down, she can see the brick tiles lead beyond open, rusted iron gates twice her height, the only entryway past the walls that encircle the hill.

Peeking overtop these walls is her destination: a spiraling cathedral of cracked stone. It is a grand but misshapen creature, its base an irregular pentagon, its height varying between two and three stories tall, and its general balance further thrown off by a tall, imposing spire standing atop its easternmost vertex that overlooks the town. Standing further atop _that_ is a large brass bell, giving the overall cathedral the look and feel of a pentagonal sundial. Speckled across the stone are the glistening hints of stained glass, depicting images of star-strewn skies, of women clad in iridescent robes, and of festivities and good cheer.

“You sure are dedicated, aren’t you, Saaya?”

Saaya turns her gaze downward from the cathedral. Sitting cross-legged at the foot of the gates is a similarly aged girl, who raises a hand in greeting. Her figure is obscured but discernible, cast in the light of a lantern on the ground beside her.

“Yo~”

“Natsu!”

Saaya walks up to her. Short-haired with curling locks of a light brown, the seated woman is dressed in the dark leather garb of the town watch. Despite her official appearance, she’s made herself rather comfortable, with a blanket underneath her and a book on her lap. Her rucksack, lantern, and sheathed sword all lay on the brick tiles in an unceremonious pile beside her.

She makes to stand up, but Saaya motions for her to stay seated, to which she grins. “You really come here every night, huh? How about it—have you seen the prophet in there yet?”

“How about you? You’ve been working pretty hard lately; they haven’t come to see you yet?”

“Ahaha! Boy, I wish. You’d think at least one of us would have seen ‘em if they really exist.” Natsuki pats the sword on the top of her pile absentmindedly. It clatters noisily, as if annoyed, making her jump. She gives Saaya a chagrined smile. “It’s a weird feeling, being a real adult with a real job. Everyone at the office still treats me like a kid, though.”

“I would imagine…” Saaya looks around, though little is visible beyond the dim glow of Natsuki’s lantern. “Did they leave you out here all by yourself?”

“I’m more than enough for a job like this~…is what I want to say, but nobody comes by this way at this time except you. I’m really only here because they couldn’t come up with better work for me. You know they call this ‘Saaya duty’ over at the office?”

A tinge of embarrassment colors Saaya’s cheeks. “R-really?”

“No, but I started calling it that, so the name will stick real soon.”

“ _Natsu_!”

Natsuki sticks out her tongue, then laughs. “Anyway, you’re heading inside, right? You got the key from Marina- _san_?”

Saaya reaches inside her collar and procures the thick iron key hanging from the cord around her neck. Natsuki nods approvingly.

“I’ll be right out here if you need me, ‘kay? Oh, and—if I’m asleep when you come back out, can you…um…give me a quick tap on the shoulder or something?”

“Ho~? You plan on sleeping on the job already? So much for that promotion…”

“I’m not planning on it! Sometimes, though, it’s just an inevitabili—bili…” She fails to finish the word, cut off by a long, long yawn. She rubs her eyes and mumbles into her hands, “It’s gonna take some getting used to this schedule… Anyway, it’s getting late, and you still have to walk back—so hurry on in!”

“Right, right.” Saaya slips in through the open gates, pauses at the threshold, and calls back to Natsuki, “I’ll be right back, then!”

“Don’t get lost, now~”

The moonlight is faint, enough to illuminate the brick beneath her but little more than that. She can make out the shadowy outlines of the marble statue of Asaya- _sama_ to her right and the vague edges of flowerbeds and bushes decorating the courtyard, though she pays these little mind.

She follows the winding path to a wide but short set of stone stairs, leading up to two large double doors of a rich oak. She traces the doors’ engraved designs with a hand, and when she finds a groove in the wood, she inserts the iron key. The doors grind and whine a little as she does so, but she has long since grown accustomed to their rusted griping, and she pushes them open with little hesitation.

The oratory is, unlike the stone exterior, of gently sloped wood, filling the air with a thick yet pleasant spice. Saaya steps inside, taking care to close the doors behind her. Light filters in through the huge, tear-shaped stained-glass windows that line either wall, coloring the chapel in a prismatic array. The ceiling is high and layered with crisscrossing beams that have been adorned with a multitude of metal stars that glisten in and reflect the light from outside, giving the illusion of a contained night sky.

Her footfalls are softened by plush red carpets as she steps towards the chancel. She passes by dozens of rows of long oaken pews; she can almost imagine these hundreds of seats filled by the multitudes that attend the weekly services. She has come to know many of them by name, their smiles always bright and grateful…

She undoes her boots’ laces and gently lays them at the feet of chancel before ascending the five carpeted steps. The chancel, as though a pentagonal hole burrowed into the wall, seems almost like a separate chamber. It lies inside the far wall of the chapel, such that only its center is readily viewable to the seated masses. Its hidden interior walls are lined with bookshelves of religious texts with soft velvety covers and looping ink, almost giving it the feel of a hidden study.

Directly in the middle rests the altar. It stands atop a slightly raised platform, simple in design and for all the world looking like a slightly fancy end table. Its only distinguishing features are the golden flask of wine and silver goblet that rest atop its lace covering.

Saaya positions herself before the altar and kneels. She spends several minutes in quiet prayer, the only sounds in the chapel her soft breaths and the occasional rustle of fabric. These are moments she has come to cherish these past three years. There is a certain stillness…a peaceful calm akin to a windless grove.

When she finishes her prayers, she stands, bows her head deep towards the altar, and then steps back down from the chancel. She retrieves her boots, reties them, and exits the same way she came, double-checking the lock of the door before tucking the key back under her collar.

At the gates, Natsuki seems to have staved off sleep, instead flipping through the pages of her book disinterestedly. She looks up at the sound of Saaya’s approach.

“What’s the book about?”

“Uhhh, I wish I could tell ya.” Natsuki scratches her head. “It’s a memoir that just got published a couple months ago. _I Saw Uesaka Burn_ —I’m sure you’ve heard of it?”

Saaya nods.

“We never really saw much of the conflict out here in Itou, so a lot of it’s kind of confusing to me. Still, there are some pretty cool stories in here. There’s this one part where this paladin named Hina literally grabs a vampire by the neck and—”

“Okay, okay,” Saaya cuts in, raising her hands. Natsuki chuckles. “…We really were lucky to have been living here.”

The smile slips from Natsuki’s face. She thinks for a moment, then nods slowly. “For real. If that prophet really exists, I’d like to thank them just once, you know? I…I don’t know what would have happened to all of us if not for…whatever it was that happened.”

Saaya doesn’t answer. She studies the cathedral in the distance, keeping her expression neutral.

After a couple seconds, she turns to Natsuki and smiles. “Well, I should get going. Do you work here tomorrow, too? I’ll bring you some soup.”

“Oh, that’d be great! Can you bring some of your bread, too? I swear, I can’t get enough of that stuff.”

“Haha, of course! I’ll do that, then.”

They exchange goodbyes, and Saaya heads back towards the dim glow of the town down the hill. Before she can descend the hill, Natsuki calls after her.

“…Hey, Saaya?”

Saaya looks back. Natsuki is sitting up straighter than before, her eyes towards the ground. She slowly raises her gaze to meet Saaya’s.

“We should get together with the others sometime. Maybe we can grab breakfast or something… It’s been a while, you know?”

Saaya’s mouth opens. A second passes, then two. She closes her mouth and nods.

“Sometime, yeah.” Her lips curve up into a smile. “Have a good night, Natsu.”

“…You too, Saaya.”

Saaya walks away. Before long, the faint light of Natsuki’s lantern disappears behind the slope of the hill, leaving only the moonlight and stars to guide Saaya home.

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Saaya’s daily schedule rarely changes. She and her fellow acolytes live in a humble hostel at the foot of Asaya Hill. She wakes up at four and freshens up, then heads off to the nearby meal center, where she helps to set up for breakfast and lunch. Around seven, Marina comes by for an early breakfast and retrieves the key from Saaya. They often chat for a little too long, the inevitable, “Oh my, I’ve stayed far too long!” from the young priestess cutting their conversation short as Marina runs off to her duties.

As the only volunteer not middle-aged, Saaya’s help is always deeply appreciated, and the amount of physical labor often puts her out of commission by early afternoon. She eats lunch with the other volunteers before heading to the library, where she peruses the various texts for useful study material.

Around four she returns to the hostel. She helps to cook once more, this time for the other acolytes—it often becomes a matter of trying to keep the food from burning while attending to the younger, needier of the children. They enjoy dinner all together, which is always a boisterous and entertaining meal. Marina stops by at some point to drop the key off with Saaya, often stealing a slice of bread or two and running off before the children can notice. (“Saaya- _chan_ ’s bread is just the best, after all!”)

After tidying up, it is usually nearing seven. Returning to her own (tiny) room, Saaya pores over the books she checked out from the library and her own prayer book. She leads the youth studies at the cathedral, so it is her duty to construct a useful, meaningful lesson plan every week.

At nine, she stops for the night, ensures the others are getting ready for bed, and heads to the cathedral. The bell rings loud and clear at ten sharp: five tolls, each five seconds apart, marking another day’s safe end. Saaya delivers her prayers and gratitude to Asaya- _sama_ , then returns home and prepares for another day tomorrow.

Her schedule has been more or less consistent for the past three years, with the only recent change being her chats with Natsuki at the gate of the cathedral. Some days, Saaya will take walks through the town to purchase ingredients, brightly greeting the storekeepers and fellow customers; other days, she’ll relax in the plaza for a short while, feeding the birds crumbs. And, of course, her Sundays are occupied by church services and religious studies.

A life of normalcy suits her, she often thinks. A life with common troubles, everyday happiness, and ordinary people. She could ask for little more than that.

When she brings this up to Natsuki (who has yet to finish the memoir, even weeks later), the girl chuckles. “A life of normalcy, huh? I don’t know, Saaya, people like you are really rare. Maybe you haven’t noticed it yet, but you’re pretty extraordinary… Ah, don’t read too deep into that, okay? …Really, I didn’t mean it like that—don’t give me that look!”

She wouldn’t say it troubles her, but what Natsuki said doesn’t quite sit well with Saaya. Being extraordinary…it seems like something so foreign to her. Extraordinary seems so inextricably linked to acts of heroism, of adventure, of combat—and quite frankly, she’s been more than disillusioned with those things.

She’s more than content to live a life of simple joys. Living in Itou is comfortable, all things considered. It is known to be a safe, pleasant city full of kind and generous people, a reputation befitting the religious center of the faith of Asaya. Saaya would not trade that peace for anything.

In the nights that follow, Natsuki finally finishes the old memoir, and their conversations stray from such extravagance to instead dwell in the mundane: Marina- _san_ ’s latest antics, the recent rise in prices for vegetables, news from the capital, Uesaka…

In the quiet of the chapel, separated as she is from the rest of the world by grand walls of glass and wood, though, Saaya finds herself lost in all manner of thoughts. She wonders how things would have been different had she been born in, say, Uesaka. How things would have been different had the church never picked her up. How things would have been different if the prophet had never graced Itou with their presence.

There is little doubt in Saaya’s mind that the prophet does indeed exist. It would be impossible for Saaya to forget the images of that day. Those glowing red eyes, their pallid skin—the heavy, metallic stench of blood—the crumpled bodies—the blinding flashes of golden light—the thousand brilliant spears that fell from the heavens—the bodies, torn through—the ash—a voice—

“Hey, you really gonna drag her in with us?”

 _Crrrreak_. The great double doors of the chapel grind open, immediately breaking Saaya out of her memories. It takes her a moment to collect herself, but she quickly turns to face the source of the noise.

A tall, lean man enters through the doors, his expression shadowed and grim in the unflattering glow of the lantern in his hand. He is dressed in a dark, hooded cloak that covers most of his features, but the light catches on the metal by his waist: a dagger, or perhaps a sword. He steps further inside, followed by a similarly dressed man, slightly shorter but much bulkier. He holds a sheathed sword in one hand, the other dragging something across the ground behind him.

Saaya’s heart stops. It’s a body.

That lantern, that sword, that body—

“Hey, better than leavin’ ‘er outside where someone might find her. We’ll just dump her in here and be done with it. By the time they find the body, we’ll be long gone, yeah?”

“Heh, I guess so.” The tall man glances around, whistling quietly. “Sure is a beaut’, this cathedral. Can’t believe they really only left one person on guard here. ‘s like taking candy from a baby.”

As they step further in, Saaya crawls against one of the bookshelves, hiding behind the walls of the chancel. Her heart has resumed beating with a vengeance, pounding so furiously she can hardly breathe.

_Natsuki is—these men are—_

“Hoooh, look at _that_! Is that shit pure silver?”

“Oi, not so _loud_.” There’s the sound of muffled impact, and a quiet grunt of pain. “Look at ‘at, the flask beside it. That’s what we call Blood of the Saints—y’heard of it?”

“Huh? What, is it a vintage or something?”

“Better. Shit’s a goldmine; they say it’s blessed by the prophet of their goddess or somethin’. Point bein’, people will pay a pretty penny for even a glass of the stuff, let alone an entire bottle. Can’t believe they just leave it lyin’ around for anyone to grab. City’s full of carefree idiots, I swear.”

“Must be all the wine, eh?”

They share gruff laughs. An odd tremble has overtaken Saaya’s body—her fingers don’t seem to be cooperating, her breath is catching, her vision is flickering. If she doesn’t move— _Natsuki is_ —if she’s found— _just like Mom_ —unless she does something— _Jun, Sana, Dad_ —

『 _Why not just fight them, then?_ 』

Saaya’s racing mind slows, entangled in visions of a golden light—viscous yet sweet, like honey…

“Oi, do you hear something?”

“Hah? What’re you even talking abo—”

The bulky man is cut short as a heavy blow crashes into the side of his face. He hits the floor with a muted _thud!_ The sword in his hand slips from his slackened grip and bounces off the ground, dropping down the steps noisily.

The taller man’s head, which had turned to watch his capsized friend, whips back towards Saaya. He grunts, dropping the lantern behind him and unsheathing the blade at his side—a simple iron dagger with a rusted edge.

He lunges forward, aiming for the throat. In a panic, Saaya drops down, and the blade just barely glances her scalp above the temple. The new wound burns, earning a small gasp from her. Blood spills in surprising quantity and tints her vision red.

The man barks something at his collapsed companion that Saaya’s spinning head can’t catch. He steps forward, blade once more at the ready, and Saaya desperately tackles at his legs. His body lurches at the sudden weight, and as his body comes toppling down, Saaya shifts his weight off of her, smashing him into the bookshelf behind her. Books come toppling down on top of him, burying him in a small pile.

“O-oi, Kiel! God _damn_ it!” The bulky man hoists himself off the ground, Natsuki’s unsheathed sword in his hands. The absolutely pristine blade seems almost to glow as he slashes at Saaya.

Instead of fear, a ferocious rage overtakes Saaya. Unknowingly, she hisses, “How _dare_ you—!?” and steps in towards the man. Surprised, he attempts to pivot and dodge her, only for Saaya to grab the incoming wrist of his sword arm. Without hesitation, she wrenches his wrist upward, earning a howl from the man and forcing his grip to loosen on the blade.

She tears it from his grasp. From behind her, the tall man jumps out from underneath the books. Once again, Saaya steps in towards her aggressor, using his own momentum against him. She smashes the flat of the sword across the side of the man’s head as though taking a baseball swing, and a horrific ringing noise fills the small chancel.

The man’s eyes seem to vibrate as he collapses to his knees, then flat on his face. Saaya turns to the bulky man, who reaches for her with his bare hands. Gritting her teeth, she clenches her open hand into a fist and, forgetting about the sword she’s holding, instead smashes it into the bulky man’s face for a second time. He flies off the chancel, knocking into the front row of pews and collapsing against the wooden frame in a sorry crumpled heap.

Blood drips from Saaya’s head and her now-split knuckles. Her breath comes in raspy gasps, but she pays it no mind, discarding the sword behind her and running towards the fallen figure by the entrance.

A dark, wet blotch mars the chest of Natsuki’s uniform. Saaya presses a shaking hand to her neck, holds her ear to Natsuki’s mouth and nose. Stillness. Silence.

The adrenaline is fading, replaced now by a thousand sharp knives in her heart, her eyes, her nose. She fights back tears.

“Natsu…Natsu, come on…”

She fumbles with Natsuki’s hand, holding it tightly in both of her own. It’s still warm, but her fingers have all the tension of a rag doll, giving no sign of recognition.

“You can’t do this…you’re going to be just fine…you can’t leave me, too…”

Saaya’s vision blurs over. She blinks, and the tears fall in streams. She chokes, and suddenly she can’t breathe again, gasping. She clutches Natsuki’s hand, holding it to her lips, trying desperately to stifle her own sobs.

“Natsu…ki…!”

Golden light spills into the chapel. Saaya looks around to find the source, yet it seems to be spilling in from the very air around her, coloring everything a sweet honey shade. The pain seems to subside for a second, and Saaya’s thoughts clear—a strange serenity overcomes her, like being swaddled in a warm blanket.

“Wha…?”

『 _Do you want to save her?_ 』

Saaya desperately nods her head. “Please…please, whatever it takes…!”

The light seems to soften. Something burrows deep into her skin, into her very bones—the ringing of the bell. It tolls once…then twice…thrice…until ten full tolls ring deep through the church, echoing, reverberating. With each toll, the light dims further, until eventually the chapel is engulfed in darkness once more, save for the flickering lantern atop the chancel…and a golden glow no stronger than a candle.

『 _Why not just save her, then?_ 』

Saaya looks down at her hands. As though a flickering flame, her entire person emanates a faint glow, a physical warmth cloaking her. She watches as it slips from her, draining away, siphoned into the hand she holds in her own. There’s a flash of heat where their skin touches, so hot that Saaya is nearly forced to let go—but she only grips tighter still.

The last of the light trickles away. Then—slowly, Natsuki’s eyelids begin to flutter. They open, and her gentle brown eyes look to Saaya wearily.

“Saa…ya?”

Saaya feels her eyes burn with tears once more. She throws her arms around Natsuki, clutching her tightly. “Natsu…Natsu…!”

“Kuh—can’t…breathe…!”

“Ah, I’m sorry!”

She pulls away. Natsuki smiles despite herself, her glassy eyes slowly focusing. She glances around. “What happened…to…?” She pats her chest, freezes, and looks down at the blood coating her hand. “Oh…God, that’s…”

“Are you okay? Is it—”

“Holy moly, Saaya, what did you do?” Natsuki jumps up, laughing. “It’s like I never got stabbed at all! It’s completely closed up!”

“Eh…?”

“Yosh!” Natsuki punches a fist into her other palm and cracks her knuckles. “Time for some payback on those jerks. If they think they can get away with that surprise attack, they’re in for a real sur—…hold on, is that…?”

She points at the chancel. The prostrated man atop it is comically lit by the glow of the lantern, while his friend is still draped over the tops of the pews.

“Oh, um…”

“You really are something, aren’t you!” Natsuki claps Saaya on the shoulder, then starts. “Oh, God, you’re bleeding! Hold on, I think I have some bandages—agh, where’s my rucksack…?”

As Natsuki starts fumbling about, she notices her scattered belongings and goes to retrieve them. Saaya watches from her position on the floor, her head still spinning. From the rush of battle to crying to this sudden relief…she feels awfully tired.

“Aaand there!” Natsuki tugs tightly, securing the knot. She claps her hands together and grins at the two men she has tied together, back to back. She bounds back over to Saaya and holds up a handkerchief, which she wets with water from her waterskin. “Now, this might hurt a little…but heck, probably a lot less than getting stabbed in the first place!”

Saaya winces as Natsuki presses the wet cloth to the wound. The pain she had forgotten about comes rushing back, like being stung over and over again.

“Ow, ow, ow…”

“Hey, hold still! I have to wrap it, or else it’ll keep—”

Shouts break the silence of the night. The two both stiffen, slowly turning towards the source. Indistinct voices meld, some deep, others high, but all with a very particular emotion: concern. One voice rings out louder than the others:

“Saaaaya- _chan_? Naaatsuki- _chan_? Where are you two?”

For the third time that night, the double doors swing open. A dozen bright lights spill into the room—lanterns, torches, and multi-colored, disembodied lights floating along like will-o’-wisps. Marina, dressed in a nightgown and too-thin a jacket rushes in, and upon seeing the two runs towards them.

“Oh, thank Asaya- _sama_ , you’re okay…!” She pulls them into a tight embrace, earning instant yelps of pain from both. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry… What _happened_ to you two? We heard the bell, and— _eek_! Who are _they_!?”

A couple different men and women appraise the two tied-up intruders, murmuring lowly to one another. Saaya and Natsuki exchange looks.

“Seems like they wanted to rob the place,” Saaya explains slowly. “But…um…”

“Saaya here kicked their asses! Er, I mean…” Natsuki shrinks under the multitude of glares at her for cursing in such a holy place. She clears her throat. “Um, she, er…defended…the cathedral, I mean.”

Marina looks at Saaya incredulously. “You don’t say…? No, we can talk about this later.” She examines the bandages around Saaya’s head and the bloodied front of Natsuki’s uniform. “We need to get you two fixed up and cleaned up, first. Can you both walk? Ahh, Terakawa- _kun_ , could you…?”

At Marina’s behest, several different individuals come and pick up the two girls, despite their strong insistence otherwise. Marina merely _tut-tut_ s.

“I’ll take these two back to the medical center. I’ll leave…um, _that_ , to you all.” She bows her head to those staying behind and leads the troupe out of the chapel, hushing the flailing Natsuki (who eventually stops of her own accord, gasping in pain).

As they begin to descend the hill, Saaya looks back to the cathedral beyond the iron gate, to the bell that rests atop its single spire. It’s commonly known that the bell rings at ten o’ clock sharp, five times, with five seconds pause between each toll. But for it to have rung at this hour, and ten times no less…

“Maybe we met the prophet after all.”

Saaya blinks. Natsuki isn’t looking at her and is instead staring up at the sky—as best she can, anyway, slung as she is over someone’s back.

“I…suppose so.”

Saaya recalls the voice that rang in her head, the golden glow that enveloped the chapel. It was the same, of course—the same as three years ago. She closes her eyes, relaxing against the back of Terakawa carrying her, and finds herself thinking back to Natsuki’s words: _“Maybe you haven’t noticed it yet, but you’re pretty extraordinary.”_

No…it isn’t that _she_ ’s extraordinary. Extraordinarily _lucky_ , perhaps. But the real extraordinary one—

 _Bong_ … The toll of the bell interrupts her thoughts. _Bong…_ The party all stops, turning back to the cathedral, watching as the large brass bell sways. _Bong…_

A warm breeze picks up and washes down over the slope of the hill, carrying with it the trembling air still heavy with the bell’s tone. After five loud peals, the bell falls back into silence, the night so still it’s difficult to imagine the bell had rung at all.

Saaya’s eyes slowly open, and she looks up to the cathedral spire. She isn’t sure why, but she finds herself mouthing words, her eyes locked on the faint glow of the brass bell in the moonlight.

_Thank you._

There is no answer. Somehow, though, Saaya swears she tastes the sweetness of honey on her tongue as they descend the hill. She closes her eyes again and finds that sleep comes easy to her.

It’s a warm, gentle night.

**Author's Note:**

> For those curious, here's a link to all the dice rolls: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1BSbzYhdWwbg3SbFR4iioRGjs0VNX5jBYiTeX40PtRNM/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! No idea when I'll update this again, but whenever that is, I'll catch ya then! Peace~!


End file.
